


His Light

by Femmetac



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Femmetac/pseuds/Femmetac
Summary: Post endgame fluff piece of what could be. Red/Lizzie





	1. Chapter 1

Cht 1

 

The house was quiet, only the steady tick from the grandfather clock and the low hum of the heating system kicking on as he tread softly through the hall, palming his hat onto the hall tree and then climbing the stairs. He had seen the house only once, from the pictures and description Marvin had shown him. She had someone do the heavy lifting for most of the furniture he’d had delivered, and here and there he could see touches of her own choosing. Pictures hung along the stairway, a big pink letter A on what must be Agnes’s door. A softly glowing nightlight in the hallway upstairs.

He eased her door open and smiled at her form draped across the bed sideways—her first “big girl bed.” She had a tendency to roll in her sleep and apparently had maneuvered herself all over already. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, just watching her. Agnes had the look of her mother at Agnes’s age, all dirty blonde hair and rounded cheeks that dimpled when she smiled. She breathed softly in her sleep, dreaming deep as he swept the hair from her forehead and kissed her brow.

He stepped out of her room and walked straight down the hall to the opposite door, aiming for what he hoped would be the master bedroom. Easing the door open, he could see her sleeping form facing away from him, sprawled across the four-post rice bed. He chuckled low, slid his gun out of his holster as he crept across the room so as not to disturb her. He laid the gun on the night table nearest him, and hung his jacket off the top of one of the posts at the foot. As quietly as possible, he toed off his shoes and set them beside the trunk at the foot of the bed, followed by his vest, shirt and pants draped across the trunk itself. Finally, sighing deeply, he slid into the cool crisp sheets of finest Egyptian cotton. He drew himself around her warmth and breathed in her scent at the nape of her neck.

Her soft waves tickled at his nose, and he slid his hand from her hip over her belly only to find it slightly rounded and firm. His breath caught as the small bump under his palm shifted and a lump lobbed in his throat even as the tears filled his eyes. He had been gone for a few months, he realized dimly, and every time he called he could hear the hesitation in her voice. There was something she wanted to say, he knew, but when he pressed her she always hedged.

“I wanted to tell you in person,” she said groggily, placing her hand over his and their child moving under them. He pressed a kiss to her head, nuzzling her hair, still unable to speak or breathe for the emotions swirling in him. This was it, he marveled, what he had worked so tirelessly for and thanks to his Lizzie he had it at last. His second chance.

“Oh Lizzie,” he breathed finally. She turned in his arms and he found her mouth unerringly despite the dark. His hand left her pregnant belly to brush fingertips through her hair and skim over the side of her face.

“I wanted to tell you at home, once you got back and knew your pardons were approved. When you knew you were free and clear, and could finally enjoy this.”

He choked up again and merely held her tighter, clasping his arms around hers and burying his face in her neck.

“Harold said you had stopped working in the field for a while,” he said when he could talk again, “he never did say why…”

“I had to tell everyone at work. They wondered after my status was restored why I would pull back so soon after. I’ll be shadowing Aram until I deliver and then go on leave for a few months. I want some time home with our baby, and you—especially now that you’re an honest man.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s funny you should mention my newly reacquired status,” he said, a smile in his voice as well. “Since I’ve had to go respectable again, the Navy agreed to grant me retired status. The FBI however, offered me a job…”

“Oh?” she gasped.

“As a paid consultant.”

Lizzie laughed into his chest. “Who better to know the minds of criminals.”

“It seems I’ve earned their trust, and maybe even a grudging sort of admiration.”

“As well you should,” she said, squeezing him gently. “Will you have a partner?”

“I did make a suggestion.”

Lizzie giggled, already suspecting. “Did you now? Who?”

“I happen to know a truly excellent profiler with extensive experience in the field and first-hand knowledge of the criminal mind.”

“Is she cute?” Liz asked, pinching his butt and then smoothing her hand over the spot.

Red laughed, “oh sweetheart, she’s gorgeous.”

 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The culmination

Cht 2

 

“RAYMOND REDDINGTON?!”

Her strangled cry shook him into bolting off the couch toward the bedroom and grabbing for a gun he no longer wore. His stockinged feet slid a bit across the bedroom floor as he ricocheted off the doorway and skated to the bathroom where Lizzie had been bathing. He flung the door open so hard it bounced off the wall and swung back at him. He stilled it with a hand and stood frozen in the opening. Lizzie looked at him, her face a mask of shock and pain, clutching the towel to her chest. At first he thought the puddle at her feet was from the bath, but there were small streaks of blood and it dawned on him.

“Lizzie,” he choked out, reaching a hand out for her.

She clasped his hand and clamped down as she whooshed out a breath. “Oh God! That _hurt_.” She clutched her belly and whimpered a bit as the contraction passed.

Raymond was suddenly glad he had taken a nap, because he had a feeling he was going to be up all night. “Sweetheart, come here.” He gently pulled and she waddled closer. He kissed her damp head and hugged her close. “Let’s start timing these things, shall we?”

“They’re getting stronger,” she said, still breathless. “I started walking around earlier, up and down stairs.”

He checked his watch, another Phillips. 1:03 pm.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later she had a firmer grip on him, bruising his forearm as he fed her ice chips in the hospital. Lizzie panted through another contraction growling and muttering at him under her breath. She kept trying to readjust her position, but there was no comfort to be had. She whimpered, fretted, and finally, FINALLY the doctor declared her dilated enough to start pushing.

“However bad this is,” she gasped after a particularly nasty contraction, “it’s nowhere near as bad as the first time.”

“No,” he said simply, lifting her punishing grip and kissing her hand while the nurse prepped her for delivery. She spared a glance at the mirror above her when the doctor said she was crowning.

“God it burns!” she groaned, trying frantically to get ahold of Reddington again. He wasn’t having it. Instead he placed her hand around the metal frame of the bed.

“That’s your vaginal lining stretching,” the doctor informed her. “It will only last a few minutes. Give that a bit to pass and then we’ll start pushing again. Your body will tell you when it’s time.”

She fussed again at this, truly miserable. “Shhh sweetheart,” Raymond murmured, sweeping her hair back from her face. “Light, short breaths. That’s my girl. You can do this. My girl’s a fighter.” He kept his lips close to her ear as she started to push again.

After more than an hour, she felt the relief of her last push, the pressure finally releasing as the baby slid the rest of the way out. She watched as her little miracle took place right then and there. Saw in her periphery as the nurse weighed, measured, cleared the airways and a frustrated cry broke the relative quiet of the room.

Reddington laughed. “There she goes,” he chuckled, even as he choked up. “Her mother’s temper from the beginning.”

“It’s a girl?”

“It’s a girl.” The nurse finally settled her on her mother’s chest. Raymond reached down and tickled a finger over her tiny palm, and she closed a wee fist over him. Lizzie sniffled and choked out a sob. “Oh Raymond she’s perfect,” she sighed tiredly. So many emotions warred with exhaustion and she cried softly while Raymond brushed his fingertips over their daughter’s head with a smattering of downy pale hair. The baby sighed deeply and settled, her little fingers still clasped around her daddy’s bigger finger.

“Mr Reddington,” the doctor urged as he placed the clamps over the umbilical cord, “would you like to cut it?”

Almost reluctantly, Raymond let go of the baby long enough to cut the cord and stood back while the nurse shifted the baby higher on Liz’s chest. “Skin to skin contact is best to keep her temperature regulated now. She may be alert enough to feed if you’d like to try.”

Lizzie scooted up with Red’s help and shimmied one side of her hospital gown down to expose a breast. She nestled the baby against her and worried only momentarily if she would be able to latch on the first time. The worry was for nothing, as with very little fuss, the little girl suckled furiously, grunting a bit and taking a moment to rest here and there at the work of feeding. Raymond dropped the side of the bed and sat on the edge, watching his two girls. His new baby girl, mouth working greedily, and her tearful mommy watching enraptured.

“Sir? Do you all have a name picked out?”

“We do,” Red smiled at the nurse. “Lucia Marie.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” she smiled back. “Well, Miss Lucia Marie is seven and three-quarter pounds and nineteen and a inches long.”

“She is a little chunky compared to Agnes.”

“She’s just fine,” Red chided Lizzie.

“Is that her sister?”

“Yes,” Lizzie smiled, playing with Lucia’s hand, “Agnes Elizabeth and Lucia Marie. They’re two years apart.”

“That’s lovely,” the nurse said, taking the sleeping baby and wrapping her snugly before placing her in the bassinet. “Such lovely old names. Those seem to be coming back in again. Now you get some rest, Mama. Sleep when she sleeps!”

And with that, she clamped a tracker on Lucia’s ankle and wheeled her down the hall to the nursery to take footprints and perform her exam. Red looked back to Lizzie to see her passed out on the pillow, snoring softly.

He leaned over and kissed her brow, “you did wonderfully, baby girl.”

Another nurse came bustling in to transfer her to a postpartum room and shortly after, Lucia’s bassinet was wheeled in as well. He placed a brief call to Kate, checking in with Agnes, before he lay down on the camp bed provided and fell asleep himself.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new little family settles in and Red/Lizzie decide to take it a step further. Sweetness follows...

Cht 3

 

The baby’s cry woke Liz, and she felt the telltale pressure of let-down. Groaning a bit, she threw the covers off and rose to check on her. Liz padded across the hall to the nursery and glanced at Agnes’s door. Still silent. That one could sleep through anything, even with her sister fussing. The moment Lizzie cracked the nursery door, she heard the murmurs. Groggy as she was, Liz could not help but smile at the sight. Raymond Reddington, former Concierge of Crime and scandalous criminal mastermind, was holding Lucia scrunched up by his shoulder, patting the diapered bottom and cooing soothing promises to his little girl.

He looked up as Lizzie crossed the shaggy carpet.

“I was trying to be quieter,” he mused, “but I think she’s hungry.”

“She’s gotten better these past couple of weeks, but she still needs that 2 am feeding,” Liz said blandly, “besides, the milk just dropped and I need the pressure off anyway.”

Red passed the baby to Liz, who sat in a nearby rocker and shifted the pleats on her nursing nightie, revealing a swollen breast heavy with milk. Lucia opened bleary eyes in the dim lamplight of the room and worked her mouth against her mother’s nipple before she latched squarely on and started suckling greedily. Raymond sat himself on a cushion-topped trunk that doubled as a bench and watched the scene, leaning back against the wall and smiling at the swell of pride and love he felt. He had come such a long way from all the horrors and chaos his life had been. This made all of that well worth it, he thought as Liz looked over and met his gaze over their wee daughter.

“Lizzie,” he began hesitantly, leaning forward, “I really wanted to talk about this during the light of day, with a better setting…pull out all the stops…” he stopped and swallowed, “I would like for us—“ he paused, shaking his head, “I would be honored if you would make this permanent…official…if you would marry me, sweetheart?” His voice was thick with emotion as he finished the last as a question.

She teared up, seeing the uncertainty in his face and the open vulnerability. And hope. In his eyes there was the barest flicker of hope. It was her undoing. Liz smiled tearfully, the happiness spilling over as she nodded. Unable to shift much and hold him as she was already holding Lucia, Liz simply nodded and choked out, “yes! Red, yes of course. You let me get her settled and I’ll show you.” Her dimples winked when he laughed and rose to kiss her brow, then Lucia’s as well.

“Oh, I love my girls. All of them,” he said throatily. “Lizzie, you girls make me just deep down to the ground happy.”

“I think after everything you’ve been through, it’s about time,” Liz nodded wistfully. “So let’s do it. If anybody deserves this kind of happiness, it’s us.”

“I didn’t think I would come out of this with anything, much less my life.” Red sat back down, crossed an ankle over his knee and clasped his hands in his lap.

“You have me,” she said, mirroring what he had once told her. “You have us.”

He smiled widely in recognition. “Then let’s do it!” he said, wheels already starting to turn. Oh, he was going to make this special. As much as they’d brought to his life, he was going to bring that much more for them. He would make it their day—Lizzie’s especially—but he would plan something for the little girls as well. He’d have to make a few phone calls. Kate could help, certainly. Red let the ideas formulating start to marinate. Let that simmer for a few days, he figured, and he could start to put some feelers out. Brimley, he realized. He needed Brimley.

As Lizzie finished up with Lucia and set her down in her bassinet, Red swept her up in his arms. She giggled and tried to stifle it. He chuckled as she wriggled, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake the baby, and hauled her out of the room and back to bed to celebrate the decision.

 


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating and planning, in that order!

Cht 4

 

Reddington swept her into the bedroom, pausing only long enough to nudge the door shut with his foot. He carried a still wriggling Lizzie over to the bed, eased her onto it and lowered himself over her, fusing his mouth to hers.

Her writhing took on a different tone under him, no longer playful as her hands traced over his back, over the T-shirt he wore to bed. Her hips arched into his in invitation, and he could not resist accepting. Reddington eased himself down fully on top of her, onto his elbows so that he could still taste and savor. He laved his tongue over her collarbone, nipping at the curve of her neck and eliciting a gasp that made him chuckle into the side of her throat.

Liz, who had grown impatient, slid her hands under his shirt and over his shoulders, rubbing down his back and dipping to cover his soft belly. Reddington groaned low in the back of his throat, rocking back to his knees and tracing the tips of his fingers up the outsides of her thighs. Her knees drew back in response, falling open to either side of him and she reached lower down, cupping and squeezing his bottom as he leaned forward again for a kiss. He gave an involuntary buck and she could feel the result of her attentions pressing against the center of her.

“Now Reddington,” she growled.

“Patience is a virtue, Elizabeth,” he smiled at her and sucked hard when his mouth found the side of her breast through the slit fabric of her gown. There was just enough to tenderness there to bring a slice of pain mingling with the pleasure and Liz arched again in response.

“Raymond,” she moaned, and the pleading in her tone was what got him. He stripped his shirt straight off, dropping it quickly and making quick work of the pajama pants he was wearing. Without wasting time, he hitched Liz’s nightgown up to her waist and plunged in to the hilt.

“Ahhh God!” he hissed, reveling in the tight slick wetness enveloping his shaft. Lizzie’s legs drew back and she draped them around his hips, arching up to pulse against him. Red felt his eyes nearly roll back in his head, she felt that damned good. If death took him now he would go happily, he thought, gazing at the unbelievable sight of her—legs spread to him, taking all of him in, breast exposed with the nipple puckered to the cool air and her chest heaving. Wanting him. He grinded his hips into hers, matching the rhythm as she pushed against him. They kept the rhythm, eyes locked on each other, his gaze only diverted by the bounce of her breasts and the small patch of hair and glistening lips that slid over his length. God she was beautiful.

All it took was a swivel of the hips to shake his concentration and she ground hard against him when he snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh is that how you want to play, love,” he nodded warningly as he gripped both of her hips in his hands and picked up speed and strength, pulling her closer into him and bumping against her sensitive nub with every slap of skin. The lubrication from her sex helping him glide looser and more erratically as he bucked and thrust. Her breath quickened, his pulse pounding, Red draped an arm under her, around her waist, leaving his other hand free to play with her clit. He moved against her, balls throbbing for release, but he waited until she clenched around him moaning her orgasm before he pistoned faster and harder into his own, then buried his face in her hair as he came into her. She draped limp arms around him as he settled onto her to catch his breath.

“Good God,” she gasped, “where did that come from?”

Ray laughed breathlessly. “There’s a lot more where that came from. We have a lifetime of it.”

“As long as there are breaks in between,” she playfully swatted him and kissed the top of his shoulder.

He slid to the side, pulling her close and nuzzling her hairline, placing kisses at her brow. “As little sleep as you’ve been getting, I’m surprised you’re still awake now.”

He crossed his arm over her torso, resting his hand on her hip. She covered his hand with hers.

“I told you she’s sleeping more through the night,” Liz reminded him. “So now that you have me Mr Reddington, what are you going to do with me?”

“Oh love,” he sighed, which only turned into a yawn, “I’m going to keep you right here and let you sleep. She may be sleeping more, but still not enough for her mother. And there’s a wedding to plan, a honeymoon to arrange, things to do in the daytime.”

He raised her other hand to his lips and kissed the fingers. “And I have a ring to buy.”

Liz smiled, thinking of herself as Mrs Reddington. She couldn’t imagine what gaudy, ostentatious thing he might pick for her. “Nothing too flashy, Raymond,” she chided.

Red gave a mock gasp, “I’m appalled you even think I would. Just for that, I should get something to rival Phyllis Diller. Or Liz Taylor.”

Liz snorted. She knew he wouldn’t go that far. Would he?

 

* * *

 

 

The next day had Red firing up the old (legitimate) connections and putting feelers out. He needed a venue, caterer, florist…he rubbed a hand over his jawline, slightly stubbly since he had not showered yet for the day, but there were things to do and appointments to set. Liz was already hard at work in the old Post Office, but he managed to place a few well timed phone calls there to the right people. It just felt so good to be plotting away again, he reasoned, almost like old times.

By noon he was showered, dressed and patting his belly in anticipation of cake tasting. He had a line on a good florist who could make arrangements on short notice and an old friend had made contact on securing the venue for the reception and ceremony. He was off to the races already, and this was going to be a gas! Lizzie would not know what hit her, and the girls would enjoy the day as well. The honeymoon was as good as planned. He had an ace in the hole there. Meanwhile, he had some shopping to do for _les pièces de résistances_. His sweetheart needed a dress and a ring. Only one choice for each came to mind. Raymond Reddington slid his hat onto his head, smoothing the brim, and took a last glance into the hall tree mirror. Smiling to himself, he turned and armed himself with his signature linen jacket before heading out the door. Time to negotiate.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding preparations underway!

Cht 5

 

Liz was perplexed. She was busy, could not beg off as easily as her soon-to-be husband, but when she finally got away for a dress fitting, it was only to find that the “dress” was merely a shell for measurement purposes only. It was a form, if anything, so that she was unable to see the actual dress until the day of the wedding. And she did not know when that was either, but she knew it was imminent from the constant barrage of phone calls that Ray kept dipping out to take. Finally, five years into knowing him personally, Liz noticed that he kept a phone on him at all times. Not having Dembe around daily, in addition to having a “square” job, had made that a necessity. He still grumbled about it, and kept it stashed somewhere so she could not see all the messages or the call log from the many errands he was running trying to get the wedding ceremony and reception off the ground.

She did know that she had finally gotten her wish for Cooper to preside over the service, because he had tasked her with writing her own vows, and she at least knew the dress color for the girls, but only because Aram mentioned they were getting purple wrist corsages in lieu of bouquets. It would look great with the lilac gowns, he had told her before he realized his mistake. Really the entire task force knew more about her wedding than her. But she didn’t mind, even though she kept catching Ressler smirking in her direction and shaking his head. In fact, there was an air of excitement through the post office—nothing like her last “almost” wedding that was tense and vainly hopeful. This was thrilling and oddly settling at the same time, as if she could finally exhale a breath she had been holding. _Finally_.

Samar said she would be jealous if she and Aram weren’t already planning to elope to the Adirondacks for a weekend. She got to the pick the cabin, only if it came equipped with a heart shaped hot tub. She had shaken her head and quipped that it must be in the water, all the “lovey” nonsense, but she looked happier than Liz had ever seen her. The tall woman had a glow…and it made Liz wonder.

Another trill of excitement ran down her spine and she wiggled a bit on the platform where she was standing, earning a _tsk_ from the dressing room attendant trying to pin the dress form.

 

* * *

 

 

On Friday afternoon, Liz got called away to an address downtown, only to arrive at a spa. She spent a couple of hours getting a facial, mani and pedi, and left shaking her head at her conniving and oh so sweet fiancé. The next morning, bright and early, she rolled over to find Raymond missing already. When she came downstairs she found Kate sitting at the table with a fresh cup of coffee and a pot of freshly pressed brew that made her blood sing.

“Well dearie,” Kate smiled thinly, “today’s the day. Are you ready?”

Liz’s stomach did a flip and she broke into a cat with the canary grin. “I am so ready!” she laughed. “Where are we going?”

“Downtown,” the older lady replied noncommittally, unable to hide the chuckle as she took a sip from her cup.

Scarcely an hour later, Liz was showered and tucked into the back of a limo next to a now silent Kaplan. Kate refused to tell her anything, and Liz could tell the woman was taking perverse pleasure in keeping this secret. They pulled up at last to their destination, and Liz let out an impressed gasp. _The Smithsonian Castle, of course_ , she thought. The imposing gothic architecture and sweeping gardens were gorgeous! This time of year everything was in full bloom, and she could see a couple of florist vans that told her plenty of blooms would carry indoors as well. She looked up, up, up to the high-peaked spires and hummed her approval of Ray’s choice. The man had taste—elegant, refined and _such_ expensive taste.

Looking back down to the steps leading into the building, Liz saw Dembe coming down to meet them, decked out in a sleek tailored light gray tuxedo with a deep plum colored vest and silk tie.

“Elizabeth,” he said, hugging her and pecking a kiss to each cheek. He offered the same to Kate before proffering an arm to Elizabeth to take. He led the ladies into the main part of the building and escorted them to an upstairs room with a bay window, complete with a window seat looking out over the gardens. Below, Liz could see arches of tulle and swags of lavender and purple flowers going up. She sighed at the spectacle of it and resolved herself to just go with the flow today. Dembe stepped out smiling, closing the doors behind him before heading off to keep his old friend from seeing the bride before the ceremony. Somewhere downstairs, he knew his oldest friend was pacing, chewing the inside of his cheek and alternately puffing away at a cigar.

Sure enough, he opened the door to find Red standing before the outer French doors, tutting at the florist attendants who were straightening a bower. He was on the verge of walking out there and badgering them into nudging it back in line when Dembe cleared his throat. Reddington jolted a bit and turned, catching the younger man smirking at his obvious agitation.

Back upstairs, Liz opened another door to find her little girls with Mrs Hunnicutt. Agnes was down for a nap, thank heavens, the older lady whispered sotto voce, and little Lucia was tiring herself out on the floor with a jungle gym, batting at the swinging figures hanging over her. Lucia would need lunch just before the ceremony, but should sleep peacefully throughout until at least the reception. Agnes would be in full form for both.

“And take a looksee here!” the nanny urged, beckoning Liz over to a wardrobe on the opposite side of the room. Kate and Liz both _awwwed_ their approval at the tiny dresses showcased in plastic garment bags, two little lavender high-waist gowns with sweeping gathered tulle. Lucia’s had a single small flower at the shoulder, while Agnes’s had purple flowers across the sash. On a nearby vanity, single bearded irises on wrist bands sat waiting for the little girls to wear for the ceremony. Liz teared up seeing all the little details he had seen to for their daughters. If it was possible, she loved him more.

Kate frowned knowingly as Liz dabbed at her eyes, “come on, Elizabeth,” she said, taking Liz’s hand and squeezing comfortingly, “let’s get you ready.”

“And don’t worry, lovey,” Mrs Hunnicutt said, crossing her arms over her ample bosom, “I’ll have both the littleuns ready on time as well.” The old lady nodded, setting her grayed curls bobbing on top of her head.

 

* * *

 

 

Liz crossed back into her room and on a hunch, opened the massive wardrobe near an old brick fireplace. Sure enough, her gown was there. And it was breathtaking. Liz let her breath out in a whoosh and with tingling fingers, pulled it out and hung it on the top of the door so she could see it fully. She scarcely knew what to say and cast a helpless glance at Mr Kaplan who was swiping suspiciously at her eyes. Liz fanned a hand in front of her face as her own eyes filled at the beauty of heavy cream satin and delicate lace. It was a floor-length A-line gown, off the shoulder design with scalloped edging and swingy pagoda sleeves. _Drop dead gorgeous_ , she sighed inwardly. Before she could be tempted to try it on, a make-up and hair stylist knocked and entered, breaking into her thoughts and ushering her to a dainty vanity overlooking the rear gardens.

“She needs movement in her hair so it’s not just hanging limp,” Kate urged as the girl began to set up quickly. “And some good neutral glowing peach tones. It will go well with all the purple he has going up down there, so you’ll coordinate with all the background for the photos.” She said this last to Liz, who merely nodded in acquiescence. Kate was always so well appointed that Liz trusted her judgment and tried to ignore feeling like a frump amongst all the finery. She listened as Kate and the stylist, Patti, worked out a plan to do for her and sat idly as they chatted away.

By the time Liz was declared a work of art by both women, Agnes was awake and toddled in on chubby legs looking for her mama. She had to touch the ends of her mother’s hair where they alternately flipped out and under, and then she demanded blush on her cheeks too. Patti complied with a big fluffy brush and dabbed a light smattering of shimmery blush onto the apples of Aggie’s cheeks and just a dap on her nose.

“How beautiful!” Liz declared as Patti dabbed a trace of delicate pink gloss on the little girl’s lips.

Shortly thereafter Mrs Hunnicutt bustled in with a fussy Lucia and Liz unbuttoned her shirt to nurse before finally getting dressed. She was already burping the baby when a soft knock sounded at the door and Samar popped in to check on Liz and bring a small square blue box and a bottle of champagne. The women found glasses in a nearby cupboard and Patti declined before giving Liz a quick hug and stepping out.

“I’ve got orange juice downstairs in the kitchens that I brought, and I’ll head down and dodge the caterers in a minute so we can mix up some mimosas! First though…we need a toast,” she grinned at Liz as she popped the cork. Kate lined four glasses up for each of them. Samart poured and allowed Liz the first glass, which she promptly sipped from to calm her jittery nerves. She couldn’t help but giggle.

“Alright!” Samar said, “Well. Here’s to…balance. Because if there is anything in the world that you two are best at, it’s balancing each other out.”

Liz teared up, suddenly thankful that all the make-up Patti used was waterproof and set with a spray. She took a breath as Kate made her toast too.

“To playing cops and robbers still, only this time likely in your underwear,” she said drily.

Samar snorted out a laugh that turned into a cackle as Mrs Hunnicutt tutted primly.

“And here’s to you and the mister,” she added roundly, “may you both be happy all your days.”

“Hear hear!” the other two nodded and they all clinked glasses. “Cheers!”

“Now,” Samar clipped, “get in that dress! And I’ll go get the OJ!” She downed her drink and was at the door in two strides, stopping just as she got to it and turning back. “I want to see you all dolled up when I get back, but you’re going to need that box first and I want to see you open it. So dress! Then box!” and with that, she launched out the door and downstairs to get back as quickly as possible.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding!

Cht 6

 

 _Marchesa_. That’s what the label said on her dress. That’s why the lace was so extravagant and gorgeous, she reasoned. She was wearing a Marchesa gown for her wedding to Raymond Reddington. She felt the giddiest excitement from all of the above. Mr Kaplan had gone to step into her own suit, a sharp silver-toned sheath with an ivory hem-skimming overcoat. Samar popped in with the bottle of orange juice, humming appreciatively at the figure-hugging shaper Liz had chosen to go under her dress as she tugged it on.

“That looks great,” she smiled mischieveously, “why don’t you go down in that?”

“I might just _go down_ in it later,” Liz snarked back, grinning just as deviously. “Now help me get into this thing. But first, that box you brought!”

The blue box Samar presented turned out to hold an ornate Tiffany necklace with opulent diamonds and amethysts. It looked absolutely regal as Samar helped fit it around her neck and she touched it gingerly. Then, going for the dress still hanging on the wardrobe, Samar brought it over to Liz and _awww_ ed appreciatively at the designer label, and again at the label with “Liz Reddington” embroidered onto it, before unzipping and helping Liz step gingerly into the frothy lace gown. Kaplan re-entered just as she was zipped into the dress and stood turning this way and that before the full-length mirror, staring frankly in awe of the image of herself. 

“Wow, Kate,” said Samar, “you’re looking very mother-of-the-bride.”

“Shut it,” the older woman said tersely, but smiled ruefully at Liz, “I know your mother isn’t here for this, but she handed you into my care as a baby, at Raymond’s urging of course, and I did care for you for your first few years.”

She choked up on the last bit and hastily accepted the tissue Samar offered her from the vanity.

“He may not like that I divulged that bit of information, dearie,” she said, taking and clasping Liz’s hand as she teared up as well, “but I knew you years ago and almost as well as your own mother.”

“That’s fine,” Liz sniffled, “and thank you for standing in for her.” She nodded as her throat constricted and the laughed tearfully at their reflections in the glass. “Mimosas?”

“Mimosas!” the other women chimed in. By the time Dembe came to tell them it was time to go downstairs, they were two mimosas in and reminiscing, sharing memories of Red. Kaplan’s favorite was the time he tried to zipline over the Amazon. Liz realized watching her that she had never seen the woman laugh before.

“Ladies, you all look lovely, and I know you are having a good time, but I must take the bride to her groom,” Dembe interjected with a quiet smile.

Liz took a deep breath and then his hand.

“Let’s do this,” she said a bit shakily, downing the last of her mimosa.

 

* * *

 

 

The banister railing was wrapped with purple ribbon, the baluster topped with hydrangea blossoms. Liz trailed her hand down it, noting the larger bouquets of hydrangea and lilies on the hall tables in the foyer. The butterflies in her stomach were swirling and she started to regret the mimosas.

She looked up as Samar stepped down after her in a swath of deep purple silk that made her mocha cream complexion glow. Kaplan came down as well with a flush-faced Agnes on her hip, with Mrs Hunnicutt carrying a still sleeping Lucia snugged under a light-weave lavender blanket. Agnes was fingering the flowery sash on her dress and looking sleepily down at her mother. Seeing the procession of females, Liz teared up again. All her life she had wanted a family, a mom, a sister, her own children. She had it. Liz looked at Dembe, seeing the brother she had long desired. In Sam she had had a father, had never wanted for that really. But the rest at last had fallen into place, because of one man. The one who waited for her now. The swirl of nervousness in her belly subsided, and she smiled at Dembe as first Mr Kaplan, then Samar stepped out onto the back terrace.

“Let’s do it,” she said a minute after the others exited the building and she saw them standing in their respective places. She could see people, the backs of heads, and the dim outline of Red standing a step below Cooper on a terrace. The sides of the terrace were flanked with ferns, lavender tree roses, and arbors of fragrant wisteria.

Dembe led her through the French doors and across a plum-colored damask runner as a string quartet struck up Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major.” Liz licked her lips self-consciously and spared a look around. Everyone had stood when the music started and turned to watch her walk down the aisle. Her jaw dropped when she realized there were friends from Nebraska, as well as Quantico. Ellie, her neighbor during the Tom fiasco was there, as well as Nik. Aram skirted the wedding party snapping photographs with a complicated looking camera. Ressler had come, with a girl beside him who she thought was an analyst at the Post Office. And there stood Raymond Reddington, for once in his life speechless.

Dembe stopped before the terrace as Red stepped forward. He placed her hand in Red’s and stepped behind him, whispering, “ _Insha Allah, ‘man tazawwaja faqad istakmala nisfa al-iman falyattiqi Allaha fiy an-nisf al-baaqiy_.’” He then nodded to Cooper to begin.

“Friends and family,” Cooper entoned, “we have gathered in this place to celebrate the union of what I would have believed to be the most unlikely pair imaginable.”

He paused as the audience chuckled.

“When I first encountered Elizabeth as a rookie agent still wet behind the ears, I never imagined that the criminal I sent her down to interrogate would wind up asking me to officiate over their union before God and everyone they hold dear.”

He smiled, then continued, “yet here we are. I cannot convey what a long and arduous journey it has been for both of them—and us—“more polite chuckles and a more feeling laugh from Ressler. “But they have made it, and they have come through it stronger and better for it. So we join them here today to wish upon them all the blessings we have gained from knowing them and seeing them forge first an alliance, then a friendship, and finally a love bond that no one above nor below can break. We celebrate with them as they pledge their devotion and their lives to each other. Raymond,” he nodded, cueing Red.

“When I suggested to Elizabeth that we write our own vows, Lizzie agreed on one condition—that I not launch into a story,” Red began, more than half the crowd chuckling at the thought, knowing full well why she would say this. “So just this once I will get straight to the point.”

He stopped, gauged the audience, and then plowed on laughing and shaking his head.

“No I won’t. It seems I’m incapable,” he shrugged, holding up his hands and shifting his stance. “When I first met Lizzie, I was unimpressed.”

Liz snorted, “thanks a bunch.”

“She was chubby, skinned-knees, and…she had a dangler,” he said pointing to his nose. Liz and several others laughed. She squeezed his hand admonishingly.

“But I digress,” he said, smiling winningly back at her. “I did the one thing any upstanding intelligence professional would do—I handed her off to someone else for safekeeping.” More chuckles. “From the day she was entrusted to my care though I did what I thought was right for a child. Saw to her needs through a go-between, made sure she was educated, wanted for nothing, and I would get pictures from time to time. A botched first haircut, braces, godawful highlights.”

“Then one day she was standing before me. Not some distant photograph that could well have been the stock photo that came with the frame, but a real live independent grown up woman, in full realization of her potential. A venerable psychologist, a full-fledged federal agent. An amazing, bright woman with a future in front of her. I was in awe of what she had become. I came to know her, to see details that I had missed from afar. The quirks and nuances of her face that no photo could capture, the maturity and verve. And I loved her. From that moment on, I endeavored to be worthy of her. And her finding me worthy, I pledge to never make her regret…me.”

Liz sniffled, squeezing his hand this time in assurance and took a deep breath.

“Raymond,” she began throatily, swallowing and blinking back the tears that came unbidden. Then she thought of the words she was about to say and laughed wetly, stammering at first then her voice growing stronger with humor, “I—ah—I would love to talk about when I first met you, but it’s classified,” the guests laughed and Ressler chimed in, “just don’t tell what’s redacted!” Liz laughed back and continued, “suffice to say you were handcuffed and yet I was scared to death. You struck a chord in me then, and from that moment, you have struck many chords. At first I was afraid that as you plucked my heartstrings and I felt it resonating in me that you were playing me like a violin. But that isn’t it at all,” she said, her throat thickening with emotion again. “You brought a music into my life, a life that was silent before. You’ve said that I am your light, your star pointing you home. But you are my song,” she finished weeping, “with my girls you are the melody that is playing in my ear and my heart. And you make my soul sing. I pledge to you to make a symphony of life.”

Everyone looked to Cooper as he cleared his throat and dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief. “With your vows pledged, you may now exchange the rings.”

Dembe produced one from his breast pocket and handed it to Red, even as Samar removed Red’s from her pinky for Liz to give him. Red and Liz took turns sliding each other’s on, Liz laughing that both their hands were shaking.

“You may now kiss your bride.”

The crowd cheered and Samar wolf whistled when Red dipped Lizzie backwards laughing as he planted a firm kiss on her mouth. When they straightened, Liz leapt into Red’s arms and he spun her once while she smooched him back just as firmly, laughing.

“By the powers vested in me to bear witness on this glorious day, I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Cheers erupted as the wedding party stood, Red scooped her up and carrying her swiftly down the aisle as the attendants followed behind.

As Dembe caught up and passed them, catching the door for Reddington he looked at his Lizzie and smiled. “I said I’d make you famous love, and you turned around and made me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Liz leaned up and kissed his temple, “you gave me a huge extended family and everything I ever wanted. You said the day I met you that if anyone could give you a second chance it was me, I didn’t see how I could and I have to confess, I didn’t believe you.”

“Well why should you have,” he gloated, “ _criminals are notorious liars_.”

“And you are an absolute scoundrel,” she smirked back as he set her down inside the foyer. She stayed there with her arms still linked around his neck while their loved ones moved in around them. “You’re my most wanted. And my number one.”

 

 _Fin_.

 

* * *

 

** ”God willing, whoever marries has completed half of his faith. So let him beware of Allah regarding the other half.” (hadith)

 

 


End file.
